He was efficient, but not if he chose to drag it out. It depended on how he was feeling. That they didn't know much about her for now was probably a good thing. Nothing pertinent, at least. He didn't care for what kind of tea she drank or what color she liked best, though admittedly, that might come in rather handy in the future should he bump into her.

But let it be known that Shisui was no stranger to torturing the enemy, like a cat with its prey before going in for the kill. Once upon a time he had taken pleasure in it. Although-- he didn't wish to revisit it. It bothered him to this day, that he would have actually taken pleasure in something that made him sick to his stomach today. It was something he had never really told anyone about, not even the then-Hokage. Self defense, Hokage-sama. A blatant lie, of course.

He hadn't spoken a word of the incident to Itachi either. Itachi had only been eight at the time; surely it wasn't something you casually spoke about.

He'd never really talked about how he'd gotten his mangekyou at all.

But he listened for now as Itachi spoke, every word sinking in like blood to fresh cotton sheets.

"What about her did you admire?"

Admiration was such a strong word.